


Amaryllis Rain

by lechatnoir



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechatnoir/pseuds/lechatnoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there are cobblestone streets and the sound of rain pattering on the windowsill. Pietros runs a flowershop with Diona and Mira, while Barca manages to get lost because his sense of direction was way off the charts and there was a downpour that he just so happened to get caught in, soaked to the bones before he's ushered into a shop with flowers by a boy with curly hair and warm chocolate eyes and he thinks he's perfectly alright with getting lost again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amaryllis Rain

i.  
It started with the sound of a familiar tap, the sound of the old woven sole of Barca's shoes slapping against the cobblestone paved street, with the summer winds gently blowing through the streets as he fumbled around this way and that with the map that Auctus had scribbled down on a napkin while they had breakfast at the local cafe that was owned by Mira, a friend of Naevia and Crixus and perhaps the entire German gang that helped out at the police precinct and did other odd jobs here and there throughout the city when they were bored out of their minds. 

It didn't help that Auctus' handwriting was the equivalent of chicken scratch, and that the rain that was currently beating down on Barca's head wasn't helping much in terms of what the fuck he could actually see in front of him, never the less decipher the mysterious coding that only Auctus seemed to understand while everyone else was classified as a uncultured pig, or something like that when he was running out of creative things to spew at his students when he was teaching up at the university. 

Duro says it's because he spends so much time with those stupid birds of his and _no_ , Barca isn't _bitter_ about that, thank you very much. He never even liked those birds anyway - they'd coo and make weird noises and _screech_ at the most inconvenient times and if he ever needs to get a hearing aid, he'll make Auctus pay for it with his birds. Their relationship had been something of a drunk one night stand that had eventually morphed into a very open relationship followed by a mutual understanding that things would work out better if they broke up. Oddly enough, instead of each of them drowning their sorrows in alcohol or sex, it just ended up that they had been friends and that was the end of that. 

All of that was of no use to Barca because he was, quite frankly, lost.

Which is annoying because he was told by Auctus ( _'That lying fuck. I swear when I somehow manage to get back to his place I'm going to strangle him'_ ) that the city wasn't as wide and large and fucking confusing as all fuck as he thought it to be. Although, clearly Auctus and his sense of direction and need to talk all the time and his stupid as fuck ego seem to make him forget that Barca and directions do not go well. 

It didn't help when the sunny skies and clear clouds seemed to take a turn for the worst and it turned into a calm, breezy summer day with a bit of sun, to a suffocating, humid downpour.

(He cursed as the napkin got soaked and slowly started to fall apart, and this really wasn't his day)

ii.  
The shop had been open for a while now - they had rented out the space from its previous owners and had given it a bit of a renovation before setting it up with the new shipments of flowers from Laeta, who had control of their overseas orders and such.

It was a small shop really - a few old brickstone walls poked their heads out from where the refridgurators were, while they were stocked with fresh roses and tulips, amongst other (atrocities) - flowers that had come in with the new orders. Pietros was the head florist - he had a knack for making even the most delicate of things stand out and shine bright, but then he would also probably have lost his head if it weren't for Mira and Diona who were flawless in what they did - Mira did all the booking and planning for events, getting the contact info, getting orders down - all that jazz. 

(She's also fucking terrifying when tax season rolls around because she sometimes doesn't exactly differentiate between humans and food and well, you might get bitten. Might.) 

Diona started working part time at first, seeing the shop as a way to earn a little bit of pocket money so that she could save up and eventually move out of the little communial apartment that she shares with about three other people, two of which seem to have a personal vendetta against her. 

(Then again, the Quintus' were always a little bit odd, so she simply brushed it aside, put on her big girl pants and went out to strike it out in the world. It just so happened that she also had a knack for colors and spotting good color and shape coordination, and Pietros needed that so she ended up being roped into their little business. She wasn't complaining though - it was the best thing that she could remember for quite some time in her life) 

The radio had been crackling with news of sporadic showers but Pietros wasn't really paying attention , because quite honestly he had to finish this flower arrangement for an upcoming wedding and if it was anything less than perfect he'd probably strangle someone.

(Or try to eat the stapler that was just conveniently there) 

It just so happened that he had to run out to the front and open up the gate to the basement before nimbly running down the stairs and fetching the new order of irises to weave into this basket of lilies and peonies when it started to rain as if it were a hurricane. 

He would've probably been blown away if he hadn't stumbled with the flowers (and almost crushed them, let alone almost lost them) and bumped into someone who seemed to be pacing back and forth like a caged beast, anger and annoyance leaking off of him like a aura that no one is supposed to see. 

"Shit - sorry, the wind's picking up a lot and I'd better get these flowers inside!" he muttered before looking up at the man and sort of forgetting how his eyelids worked or how his jaw worked for that matter as well.

"It's ah, no problem. Though, you mind helping me out a bit? Seems like I'm a bit lost."

(Normally Barca hates it when people bump into him or touch him without his given consent first. Normally he'd be blowing up and causing a spectacle because then he can bask in the afterglow of humiliating one's opponent but this time it was -- odd. He didn't lash out. In fact, he was as docile as he's ever been. Maybe it's the boy with the curls and the iris flowers that seem to go with his eyes so well that he doesn't exactly know what he's doing or how to breath.)


End file.
